Gallifrey Returns
by IsabellaDangelo
Summary: When the Doctor and Clara see a young woman appear and disappear before them, Clara becomes concerned over the Doctor's lack of interest. After 2000 years, has the Doctor finally had enough or has he gone insane?
1. Prelude

Gallifrey Returns

Disclaimer: Doctor Who is most definitely not mine. I'm just playing with the Raggedy Doctor. This story takes place after the episode "Listen".

Summary: After 2000 years of traveling through time, has the Doctor finally gone insane? He has lost his family, his planet is still in limbo, leaving him to be the last of his kind. For now.

Author's note: This is just a taste of what I'm working on.

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><p>Roaring at the young woman before him, the Doctor held up his sonic screwdriver with his right hand. "You will tell me!" he yelled but all the young woman did was smile as she had done so many times before.<p>

Clara, standing a few feet behind the Doctor looked torn between being confused and being scared. She too had seen the young woman several times. However, the lady before them never spoke. She only watched and smiled.

It didn't matter what time they visited anymore. What planet, what place – she was there. Her appearances were getting longer in duration. Castrovalva, Kosnax, even in good old Victorian England, she was there. The young woman with long black hair, parted in the center and then tied back neatly in a bun. Her skin was pale with perfect ruby lips. It was hard to tell if the lady looked more like a Degas sculpture or like Snow White.

This time, the young woman stood inside the Tardis, an amused smile still on her lips. Maybe she looked more like the Mona Lisa with that look upon her face, Clara mused for a moment. The musing ended when the woman looked past the Doctor, straight at Clara. Those ruby lips stretched into an even bigger smile.

"Don't you look at her! You will look at me!" the Doctor ordered, placing himself firmly between this unknown woman and Clara, sonic screwdriver still in hand.

The young woman did look at the Doctor, but bit back her lips, as if she was holding back a laugh. Her eyes were nearly dancing already with amusement.

"Who are you?" the Doctor demanded again. "How did you get in here?" he asked more angrily. As the young woman's eyes slipped to looking at Clara again, the Doctor added "Don't you dare."

"Dare what?" the young woman asked. Her voice was odd. Her accent was clearly not English or Scottish. However, with so few words, it was impossible to place.

"You will look at me!" the Doctor repeated. "Not at Clara!"

The young woman's eyes narrowed and she approached the Doctor, seemingly unafraid of the strange glowing sonic screwdriver in his hand. "You hate this, don't ya?" she whispered when she was only a foot or so from the Doctor. He didn't respond; although, he now held the sonic screwdriver between them. "The not knowin'. The lack of answers. You _hate_ this," she continued on, amusement breaking back out on her face.

The young woman spun in almost a waltz, back to the spot where she had appeared a few moments ago out of thin air. Leaning back against the railing inside the Tardis, she again peeked around the Doctor at Clara. "It really is fun having the upper hand on him," the young woman stated with a wink.

Clara held back a nervous chuckle herself, only to get the Doctor to turn around and give her a look of disapproval. With his back turned, the young woman moved towards him again. This time, the Doctor spun around quickly, his sonic screwdriver pointed directly at the young woman's head.

"Really? What are ya gonna do? Make a bookcase out of me to go next to the swimmin' pool?" she stated with a roll of her eyes.

That got the Doctor's attention. How long had she been in the Tardis? How much had she seen?

"Are you American? Are you from the South?" Clara asked, finally being able to place the accent. It was something like out of Gone with the Wind almost to Clara's ears.

The young woman leaned back against the railing again with an exasperated sigh. "A lot of planets have a South, Clara."

The Doctor froze. That feeling in the pit of his stomach, that tingling at the back of his neck, the odd smell of something familiar but not… He had said something very similar to Rose well over a thousand years ago. At least to him. "_A lot of planets have a north_"

Clara didn't notice the Doctor's frozen form. Instead, she moved around him to get a better look at this other woman. "Why are you following us?" she asked.

"I'm not," the woman stated smiling. It was as if she was playing a game with them and neither Clara or the Doctor were clear on all the rules yet.

"Okay…" Clara said aloud, realizing that this line of questioning was getting them nowhere. "Why didn't you speak to us until now?"

The woman stood up slowly, her eyes going from Clara to the still frozen Doctor. "It wasn't time." And with that, she winked, twisted the bracelet on her arm, and disappeared.

Immediately after the young woman vanished, again, the Doctor busily went to work around the Tardis control system. He began to pull levers and push buttons – Clara had no idea what the Doctor was attempting.

"Alright, that was weird," she stated.

"Impossible," the Doctor muttered. Clara quirked her head slightly. She rarely saw him this agitated.

"Yes…" she said, unsure of whether the Doctor was referring to what just happened with the young woman popping in and then vanishing right before them or if he was referring to Clara.

"Completely and totally impossible," he mumbled as if to himself.

"Right…" Clara said, taking a step closer to the Doctor.

He turned around to face Clara. "She cannot exist!" he stated almost jubilantly.

"So this means we are going after her?" Clara asked.

The Doctor's face fell. "No."

Clara almost laughed. This was a challenge. The kind the Doctor never walked away from. "No?" she asked in amazement.

The Doctor pulled out one of the upper monitors to show Clara what he had been doing, what he had been analyzing since the young woman left. "No," he repeated as Clara looked up to the monitor. It was a diagnostic scan – one the Doctor had installed after the incident with Donna. The monitor showed three bio signatures a few minutes ago – one human, two Timelords.

"I will not chase ghosts."


	2. Chapter 1

Gallifrey Returns

Disclaimer: Doctor Who is most definitely not mine. I'm just playing with the Raggedy Doctor. This story takes place after the episode "Listen".

Summary: After 2000 years of traveling through time, has the Doctor finally gone insane? He has lost his family, his planet is still in limbo, leaving him to be the last of his kind. For now.

Author's note: Yay! One review! :-) I really hope everyone likes this chapter. Like most things Doctor Who, not everything is what it seems. I hope y'all will like the addition of another older face. ...wait, I think that might have been a pun. ;-)

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><p><em>Two Week Earlier<em>

The wind carried the odd sound of a Tardis with the brakes on out over the green field. A large blue box appeared out of thin air, startling some nearby grazing sheep. As the doors of the strange box opened, the sounds of laughter tumbled out.

"And then I said to her," the Doctor began as he took a step outside the Tardis. However, the moment his foot hit the soft green grass, all laughter stopped.

"Said what?" Clara asked, bemused by the story the Doctor had been telling her.

"Where the hell are we?" he muttered as he slowly walked a few steps away from the Tardis.

Clara cocked an eyebrow. "_Where the hell are we?_ You said that?" she asked, confused.

The Doctor turned to look at Clara and shook his head quickly. "No, no, no," he stated quickly before throwing his arms wide. "I mean where the hell are _we_?"

As the Doctor paced and muttered, Clara slouched her shoulders forward, her eyes narrowing in on him. "You said you were taking me to Shallanna," she informed him, in case he forgot. Again.

The Doctor waved a dismissive hand at her. "Yes, yes, yes, but this isn't Shallanna! The trees are all wrong."

As he went back to pacing and muttering, every so often stealing a look at the Tardis, Clara kept her eyes narrowly focused on him for only a few minutes before looking around at their actual surroundings. She noticed the thin tree borders between fields and the now scattered sheep a few dozen yards away. There was something familiar about this place.

As she turned, she saw why the place looked so familiar. There, on the hillside, was a giant figure of a rider on a horse carved into the hill itself. There were in Osmington. They were still in England. They never left.

"Doctor," she said with only a slight hint of a sigh. He was still busy pacing.

"Maybe I forgot to….no, no, I'd never forget to pull back on the left lever before I," he muttered.

"Doctor," Clara called him a bit more authoritatively.

"Not now, Clara. Can't you see I'm busy?" he said without looking towards her. That, of course, got Clara.

She moved to stand directly in front of the Doctor and interrupt his ridiculous pacing. Nearly running into her on his return, he looked at Clara, confused. Clara only pointed behind her and to the right. "Osmington," she stated, her faced clearly showing her annoyance at being dismissed.

"Osmington?" the Doctor asked, his eyes not moving to follow Clara's hand. She purposefully stepped out of the way and pointed again. This time, directly at the figure.

"Oh! Osmington!" he stated jubilantly. "Well, why didn't you say so?"

Clara only folded her arms in annoyance before the Doctor went back to pacing. "Why on earth would the Tardis stay on Earth? What is wrong this time? I made sure to tune up the helmic regulator only last week!"

"Doctor," Clara stated warningly. When he continued to ignore her and mutter on about the controls of the Tardis, she repeated herself. "Doctor!"

"What!" he said in the same tone back, spinning around to face her.

"When are we?" Clara asked.

"Hmm," he began before pulling out his sonic screwdriver. "Based on the air temperature and that the white rider is there, I'd say it's.." the Doctor managed to state before Clara interrupted him. She had her cell phone in her hand.

"It's Tuesday," she stated in a frustrated and annoyed tone.

"Tuesday?" the Doctor replied, his face screwing up in confusing. "How do you know that thing isn't broken?" he asked, pointing to the offending cell phone. Clara held it up for him to see as well.

"Because, it has a signal and I just received an email," she told him.

"Really? From who?" he asked reaching for the phone. Clara retracted her phone as quickly as she could, knowing full well it was most likely from Dan.

"Not important," she said in such a way as to hopefully end any argument. The Doctor only smiled knowingly. He'd had enough kids and grandkids to know that quick retreat meant that it was from whomever she was dating.

"What is important," Clara began to hopefully sidetrack the Doctor, "is why we have only gone 3 hours from my house." Looking up and to the side, seeing the White Rider again out of the corner of her eye, "Not that I mind really. Travel by Tardis is certainly quicker than driving."

The Doctor didn't respond, instead his eyes became focused on the Tardis itself. As he took a quick step forward, the doors of the Tardis swung open – even without the snap of his fingers. Given that both he and Clara were a good many yards from the Tardis, the Doctor stopped and held his arm out to stop Clara as well.

"Wha," Clara began but was quickly silenced by the Doctor.

"Hush," he quieted her. His eyes pierced into the open doors of the Tardis to see if anything was amiss but nothing looked off. Nothing looked wrong. Yet, they were certainly not on Shallanna, not in the 5th year of the 4th governor's term, and they were not the ones that opened the Tardis' doors. A sheep bleated in the behind them.

The Doctor spun around, the sonic screwdriver in hand, pulling Clara behind him as he gazed out on the flock. "Come out! Who are you?" he demanded seemingly to the woolly fluffballs a few yards away.

From behind the Tardis, a black cloaked figure emerged. The long robes the figure were similar to that of the headless monks but there was something off on this figure. The hands were far too feminine, particularly the bright red nailpolish.

Clara felt something behind her and took a look only to turn fully around and gasp, wide-eyed, at what she saw. "Doctor," she whispered, terrified.

"Not now, Clara," he stated to her almost gently. His voice was much louder as he spoke out to the sheep. "Really? This cliché? A wolf in sheep's clothing? So, which one is it?"

Deciding that forcefully turning the grown man around was going to be easier that explaining to him what she saw, Clara grabbed the Doctor's arm, and pulled him so he would turn to look at the cloaked figure. "What do you thi.." the Doctor began but quickly saw why Clara had forced him to turn around.

Somehow, in that split second that Clara hadn't been looking at her, the figure no longer had her hands clasped before her. Instead, she held a tablet with only two word and a question mark on it. "Bad Wolf?"

The Doctor's eyes narrowed again as a lot of half forgotten memories and old but very much remembered pain floated to the surface. He choked those down, his voice no longer holding the slightest hint of amusement or playfulness. "Who are you?"

The tablet seemed to scramble and rewrite itself. "Who are you?" phased in slowly on the gray screen. The figure herself or itself seemed unmoving.

Offended, the Doctor's voice returned to it's normal volume as he spoke across the small expanse to the black figure. "I asked first!"

"You don't answer," the tablet read, much more quickly this time.

"I'm called the Doctor," he stated as he put the sonic screwdriver away and tugged at his waistcoat. "Now, who are you?"

Fairly recent memories prickled at the surface of Clara's brain. It slowly donned on Clara that she had seen someone like this before. The red nailpolish was bugging her in contrast to the black robes. Something about that particularly shade, the shape of the hands… "Doctor?" she said. "I've seen her before. This woman"

As the Doctor turned to look at Clara, the tablet shimmered and switched again. This time it said "Doctor is a title."

"Where?" he asked Clara. She quickly read the tablet before looking the old man in the eyes.

"On Kosnax, at the market," she said, now looking back at the hooded figure. The figure still didn't move.

"She was with another woman in the marketplace. I only remember because I thought it was odd seeing a monk wear nailpolish," Clara stated with a tilt of her head.

"Well of course it's odd seeing a monk wear nailpolish. It would go against their vow of simplicity!" he stated before looking back at the hooded figure. The tablet now read "Not a monk"

The Doctor sighed, disgruntled, at the figure before turning back to Claire. "What did the other woman look like?" he asked out of curiosity.

"Why does that matter?" Clara responded, her eyes never leaving the black figure.

"Just answer me. Do you remember what the other woman looked like?" he asked.

"Yes," Clara began. "She had black braids, pale skin, and…"

The Doctor cut her off. "So she wasn't a Kosnax, then?"

"No…," Clara knitted her eyebrows together. "She looked human." All Clara could remember was looking around the shopping and only noticing the other woman because she was one of the few humans moving about. However, when Clara smiled towards the other woman, the black robed figure gestured with her index finger for the other woman to follow – as if the first woman had been following the figure and stopped to look at Clara.

"There, then you have it," he said as he moved briskly towards the cloaked figure. Smiling, he went to pull back the figure's hood. "Human."

However, the Doctor's face fell immediately upon seeing that the figure wasn't human at all. It was the face of an Angel, screaming in agony, looking back at him. Never moving his eyes from the Angel, he only heard Clara's gasp.

"Clara, get inside the Tardis," he told her calmly but with authority. "Now," he stated slightly more desperately.

Clara knew what the Weeping Angels were. She couldn't bring herself not to look directly at it. "Not without you, I won't," she informed the Doctor.

"Clara, I will be in in a moment," he said as he focused on how odd the head was tilted. Why would an Angel play dress up like this? Everything in him wanted to look at those hands, look at that tablet, and ask more questions but he needed to get Clara to safety first. "Get inside," he told Clara. Looking directly at the Angel, unblinkingly, the Doctor whispered. "What are you?"

Before Clara could voice any further objections, the tablet changed. "Spoilers."

"Spoilers?" Clara read aloud, confused. What had the Doctor asked of this Weeping Angel?

Taken back, the Doctor felt a new wave of pain overtake him for a moment. It was so intense it almost made him blink. He barely held on to his concentration of staring at the agonizing figure. "What did you say, Clara?" he asked, attempting to hide the pain that single word caused him. He again, fought the urge to look away. He would not let the Angel win.

"The tablet. It changed again. It says 'Spoilers'," Clara repeated.

Eyes narrowing in on the Angel, the Doctor warned it, "You are not to use that word. You are never to use that word. That word doesn't belong to you."

Grabbing the Angel's robes about it's shoulders, the Doctor repeated, "What are you?" Clara looked and the tablet didn't change. Instead, the Doctor ripped open the robes – his eyes never leaving the Angel's.

Rather than a stone statue, the arms were of clockwork except for the hands. The head of the Angel was more like a bust – mounted on a trapezoid cabinet of some sort that had a single sign on it. "Pull to open" – written in the same font as the sign on the Tardis front door. The Angel like creature still held the tablet before it and didn't defend itself. However, the tablet changed again to match the words written across it's chest, "Pull to open."

"Doctor?" Clara called to him. The Doctor waved her off as he took a step back in confusion, gesturing for Clara to wait a minute.

Getting a better view of the creature, it's black robes now slipped off it's shoulders and gathered at it's clockworked elbows, the Doctor was clearly not pleased. "What sort of sick person would do this?" he asked, slightly horrified. "Who would put the head of a screaming weeping angel on a stick?" he said with much more aghast. The idea of killing what the Doctor believed to be a sentient creature and putting it's head on top of a cabinet like some macabre decoration piece was completely repugnant to him. He moved back further, attempting to get as best a view as he could without not looking directly at it.

The tablet still read "Pull to open."

As the Doctor puzzled over this, Clara realized something. On Kosnax, she'd seen the figure before them move. It was just a finger, but it moved. Therefore, it couldn't be an angel. Angels don't move if you look at them.

Marching past the Doctor, Clara went up to the figure and not into the Tardis as he had told her to do a minute ago. "Clara!" he shouted, causing another sheep to bleat. "What are you doing?"

"I'm opening it," she stated. Before the Doctor could move to stop her, Clara had her hand on what looked like a simple handle. The moment she touched it, the Angel head creature, dropped it's arms so that the tablet no longer blocked the door from being opened. The robe fell to ground, showing the creature in it's entirety. The legs were similar to Cybermen but more old fashioned looking. Almost like a 14th Century Knights legs if you looked at the knees.

Although he had no hope of stopping her, the Doctor rushed forward towards Clara. Smiling, since she knew it couldn't be an Angel if it just moved right in front of her, she opened the cabinet to find three items; a dried small daisy flower, an envelope that looked to have some sort of Greek lettering on it to Clara's eyes but starting with a lower case delta, and a very old transistor type handheld radio. The Doctor recognized the lettering immediately on the envelope – it was his name in old high Gallifreyan- but it took him a second to recognize the radio. Gingerly, he picked up the radio as he stood right next to Clara.

"What is it?" she asked, curiously.

"I thought this was still in the Tardis," he whispered. Both Clara and the Doctor's attentions were brought back to the creature when they heard the cabinet shut. It held the tablet in front of it again. The hands, now that the Doctor could see them, were out of wax and purposefully made to look exactly like River's. The tablet said only two words again, "It is."

Reading the words, the Doctor frowned. Quickly, he put the radio in one pocket. Into his coat pocket, he reached and yanked out his sonic screwdriver with one hand. As soon as he could, he reached and yanked out the dried daisy and the envelope in the cabinet with his other. Turning the sonic screwdriver on, he forced the creature to fall to the ground into the many parts it was made of. The head rolled slightly back, away from the cabinet. The legs fell into twenty pieces, some half beneath the cabinet. The gears and springs that made up the arms bounced or rolled away until getting too caught up in the grass. The creature, clearly, was dead. If it was even alive to begin with.

Quickly, he guided Clara into the Tardis, not that the Doctor was that sure of their safety in here. How had the doors opened, after all? He looked at the surroundings, both inside the Tardis and out, as quickly as he could. Nothing was amiss – even the Tardis doors closed the moment they were both inside.

As the Doctor went up to the controls to get a diagnostic reading, Clara grabbed ahold of the railing. "Doctor, what is going on?" she asked him seriously as he busied about.

"I don't know," he said absently mindedly. Clara didn't buy that for a second. Instead, she took a different approach and went with a more direct question.

"What is that radio?" she asked. Clara could tell her question caught him off guard, his erratic hand movements slowed. "Why did you say that you thought it was still in Tardis?"

Taking a deep breath, the Doctor tried to swallow down the pain again. It was too much. His mind was filled with too many memories of both his wife and his granddaughter. Both gone. Both no longer with him. If even one of his grandchildren survived… if any of his children… then maybe… but no. Nothing. All of time and space and… he readied himself to focus on the task at hand. Why had the Tardis doors opened on their own? That was to be his focus for now.

"Because it is," he said quickly as he started to get a report on the Tardis condition. A long batch of paper spewed out of the control panel in a way reminiscent of another era – with each sheet of paper attached to the next by a perforated line for easy tearing apart. Everything on these pieces of paper stated that all systems were optimal as usual.

Ignoring that the radio was now on the Tardis – in the Doctor's pocket- Clara persisted in her line of questioning. "Whose was it?" she asked.

The Doctor threw the paper to the side in frustration as he read the report. He tried to think of what could cause the Tardis to not go somewhere – to stay within only a little over a hundred miles of where it was…

"Clara, how far is your house from the white rider?" he asked, still deep in thought.

Clara was taken back a bit. He hadn't answered her question. "I don't know. Maybe a little less than three hours," she answered. Before she could repeat her question the Doctor shook his head. He wasn't looking at her, he had his back to Clara – looking out at nothing.

"No, distance, not time," he stated as he turned back around to look at her, expecting an answer. Clara was too.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Clara repeated her question. "Whose was it?"

The Doctor turned his back on her again. He knew he'd never get an answer unless he answered. Stubborn egotistical little… "Someone very dear to me," he said after a few seconds pause. He'd never speak her name – not the name she took to fit in with the other children on Earth or the name his son gave her.

"Now," he stated as he turned to look at Clara again. "Distance."

Clara shrugged. "About a hundred and twenty miles, I think," she guessed. Clara really had no idea.

"Ah ha!" the Doctor exclaimed as he made his way back to the controls. "Most likely your house is almost exactly two hundred kilometers from the White Rider," he informed her. He smiled as he adjusted the controls. "Or one hundred and twenty four point two miles," he continued in a way to show how much more clever he was. Clara barely resisted an eyeroll.

Hitting another lever, he strutted over to lean against the railing near Clara. "Or, exactly, 36 leagues."

"Leagues?" Clara asked more to hurry him to get to the point.

"36 leagues," the Doctor continued now with a small smile. "The distance is just 4 leagues off of an early time locking device," he stated.

Clara knew that word and she associated it with war. It was something the Doctor had spoken about before. All of Gallifrey was in a Time Lock during the last great time war.

As the Doctor went back to his controls, this time to actually move the Tardis, Clara followed him. "We're time locked?" she asked seriously, clearly concerned.

The Doctor looked right at her. "What is it with all these repeating questions?" he exclaimed. "Yes, time locked. And I know who might have done it."

It was only a few seconds later the Tardis now appeared inside what was either a ruined underground station or a ruined basement to a large building. Either way, the debris around where the Tardis now sat was nothing more than rusted beams and large chunks of cement from broken pillars. Sounds of water dripping could be heard somewhere in the distance. What looked like a small flood was only inches away from the Tardis' right side.

Inside the Tardis the Doctor had been explaining his thinking to Clara during the very short trip. "I've tracked the surge of energy that could on be explained by a time lock to here," he stated happily before pointing to one of the monitors. Clara came over to take a look.

"Canary Wharf? Why would anyone hide anything here?" she asked. Thinking more on it, Clara added, "How could you hide anything here?"

The Doctor finished making sure the Tardis controls and the outside environment were alright before heading straight to the doors. "Torchwood hid an entire department filled with people and all sorts of alien technology here once," he stated matter of factly. Clara was quick to his heels as he went to open the door. The moment the Doctor did so, he went out only to turn right back around, forcing Clara to run into him. The Tardis doors were quickly locked.

Clara looked up at him, perturbed. "Perhaps you'd like to go to a museums today, instead?" he asked. Taking in Clara's look of complete disapproval, he sighed, turned around, and stood on his tip toes to see what was beyond the Tardis doors.

"Doctor? What is it?" she asked.

"Angels," the Doctor replied, his nose against the glass of the window. "Two of them, I think." He glanced around the room as best he could from this vantage point. "Ah! And one cherub!" he stated as he looked as far to the side of the room as he could. After a few seconds, he turned to look at Clara seriously.

"Stay here," he told her. Of course, Clara had no intentions of staying inside the Tardis – however the Doctor left through the doors too quickly for her to follow. With a snap of his fingers, Clara was locked inside.

"Doctor!" she yelled in frustration as she tried the door. He ignored her from outside the Tardis.

Instead, his focus was on the two angels and the cherub. He was careful to keep his eyes on them as he moved about the room. "Three weeping angels," he said aloud. "Alone in this pit?"

"Not alone," a familiar masculine voice said from somewhere in the dark. Slowly, into the Doctor's eyesight was a familiar face. A very familiar face to him.

"Jack!" the Doctor greeted him happily. Clara was still banging on the Tardis doors and trying to jiggle the lock to let her out.

"Well, I'd say given the ole blue behind you I'd have two guesses as to who you are," Captain Jack Harkness said with a smile. He looked just beyond the Doctor to see the Tardis and a very agitated Clara inside. His smile grew. "But given the loveliness in the box, I'm going with my first guess."

"Which is?" the Doctor asked, curious if Jack could see immediately what Clara couldn't.

"You have a new face," Jack replied. With that, he pulled out a gun and shot the two weeping angels. Rather than shattering, the angels seemed to have an energy field grow around them like an angry cocoon before it disintergrated – leaving the angels there but as statues.

"There," Jack said in relief. He moved closer to the Doctor. "You can blink now."

The Doctor pointed with his left hand to the cherub. "There's one more." Jack immediately shot it, only for this one to shatter.

"Huh," Jack said, looking at the gun like it was toy. "That one wasn't real."

The Doctor came and took the gun out of his hand, turning his back on Jack so that the Captain couldn't easily retrieve the item. "What is this?" the Doctor asked, turning the gun over in his hands.

"An anti-virus for temporal parasites," Jack stated as he walked around the Doctor and took his gun back. In normal Jack fashion, a smile played on his lips, "A very lovely lady gave it to me."

"I'm sure that's not all she gave you," the Doctor muttered as he quickly went over to the Tardis to unlock the doors.

Clara immediately came out and shook her fist at the Doctor. "You don't lock me in like that! What if something happened to you? How would I have ever gotten out again?" she asked him angrily. It was only after yelling at the Doctor, Clara's eyes narrowed in on Jack.

Jack smiled, gently pushed the Doctor aside and took Clara's hand to kiss it. "Hello," he stated with a kiss.

Taken back, it took Clara a second to respond. "Um, hello."

The Doctor pushed himself between them, breaking Jack's hold on Clara's hand. "Alright, that's enough," the Doctor stated to Jack.

"I haven't done anything," the Captain protested.

The Doctor turned to look directly at his old friend. "You said hello," he began. "That's enough for you, Jack."

Jack grinned this time before looking back at Clara. "It really is still him!"

Thinking over the odd angel like creation in the field near the White Rider and now these weeping angels in this half flooded underground place at Canary Wharf, the Doctor began to pace a bit. However, his thoughts were quickly interrupted by Jack.

"When'd you go Scottish?" Jack asked the Doctor, turning to face the pacing man.

"He did it with this face," Clara answered, still aggravated. She also turned to face the Doctor.

Jack smiled down at the petite woman, reaching out for a normal handshake this time. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness," he stated easily.

"Clara, Clara Oswald," she replied, only breaking her crossed arms long enough to shake the Captain's hand. Her eyes were on the Doctor.

"Clara, huh?" Jack began but the Doctor came out of his revere and walked up to both of them. He took their arms, spun both Jack and Clara around, and –now standing between them- hooked his arms around theirs to walk. Jack was on the Doctor's right and Clara was on his left.

"Right, so mysterious time locks, weeping angels, and Jack," the Doctor said. With the name of his old friend, he turned, breaking the joined arms although Clara was still on his left. "What are you doing here?"

With that Jack smiled again. "The same lady that gave me this," he began, patting the gun he had used on the angels holstered to his side, "told me to go through an old sewer grate to get into the remains of the Torchwood 1 basement."

The Doctor stepped forward, now breaking the linked arms with Clara. He looked directly into Jack's eyes. "What did this lady look like?" he demanded in a low voice.

Jack's eyes looked up and to the right. "Medium height, medium build," started dismissively. His eyes turned back to the Doctor, "But perfect skin. Just the right shade of sun kissed alabaster with fabulous dark hair framing her face." Yet another person the Captain was clearly completely enamored with already.

The Doctor hadn't moved from Jack. Instead, he gestured slightly to Clara. "Clara?" he asked her to get her attention. "Does that sound like the woman you saw?" he continued.

Clara let out a sound of frustration at the Doctor. "I don't know. I wasn't exactly close enough to see if she had 'perfect skin'," she informed both men with annoyance.

"Describe what you saw," the Doctor stated to Clara, still unmoving from Jack's face.

"I don't know!" Clara exclaimed, throwing up her hands in frustration.

"Describe her," the Doctor repeated.

"Black braids, pale skin, and really deep red lipstick," Clara stated quickly as she began to pace.

His attention now fully on Jack, the Doctor asked him, "Was that her?"

Jack shrugged with a smile. "I don't know, could be."

Clara turned to look at the two men, her annoyance level at the Doctor almost at its breaking point. "And it could be millions of other women. I could have just described Snow White for all I know," she almost yelled.

"Snow White's not real," the Doctor stated dismissively. However, knowing he wouldn't get much more useful information out of either one of them, he stepped back and changed the subject.

"So, we have a time lock activated on our hands," the Doctor began.

Jack muttered from next to him. "Depending on the radius, it will make the evening commute hell tonight for a very long time."

Ignoring him, the Doctor turned to face both Jack and Clara from a few paces away. "Let's find it!"


End file.
